Surprise?
by Amorye
Summary: Involves Paul London. Summary inside, or maybe I'll come up with one soon. Rated for language and stupidity.


**Surprise?  
**

My first attempt at a humor fic. Contains stupidity, Paul London, and other wrestlers. And ex-wrestlers. Please review. Flaming would be totally pointless. Decided to re-type this. There was a lot of typos.

0o0o0o0

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! _Paul London's alarm rang.

He very lazily checked the time. "Damn.. it's just six AM." he yawned, pushing the snooze button, to get some more rest.

Tough luck, London, you won't sleep after this. Well, for the day at least.

A bucket of ice cold water splashed down on him.

"SHIT! I can't change these bedsheets!" he exclaimed angrily. He started muttering something about dumb pranksters but stopped, since he was the one who put that bucket over his bed in case he didn't get up. Oh yeah, the hotel staff were going to _kill _him for drowning part of the bed in water. He just took an incomplete shower in bed. How convenient. Better to continue the shower in a _real _bathroom. He stepped into the shower and turned it on. A few minutes later, he stepped out and reached for a towel. He then realized he forgot his clothes.

Great. And pretty soon they're just going to barge into my room and attack me or something. "They're" were the other wrestlers. He got a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He opened the door and stepped out. He slid open the cabinet doors and said, "Orton, your man-in-the-cabinet trick is getting old." He knew Orton's "smartass" trick.

"Damn." came Orton's voice from somewhere in the cabinet. He heard shuffling of pages.

"Orton! What're you reading?" he asked, panicking that he might've been reading his journal because of recent anger problems...

"Oh, uh, nothing!" Randy answered. Paul groaned. He spotted Orton, pulled on his hair and whacked him with a hanger. Paul held out his hand.

"What?"

"Journal."

"No."

"Hand it over before I call security."

"Fine, you win." Randy said, handing the journal to Paul.

"Thank you."

"Ooh, would you look at that. Paul London's half-naked!"

Paul blushed, realizing his lack of clothing, but had another comeback on him. "You gay pervert. Get out before I call security!" he threatened once more.

"Yes sir..." Randy said, going out of the room through the adjoining door.

"What the hell? You had a _key _to that?" Paul asked, astonished.

"Yeah. Me and John-- oops..." Randy clamped his mouth shut, realizing he had revealed the secret.

"You mean you've been spying on me?"

"Yes--um no...no."

"I'm going to kill you for this, Orton. And same with your little boyfriend John."

"Hey! He's not my boyfriend! We're not gay!"

"Yeah, right. Now out." Paul ordered.

He locked the door.

"Finally alone."

_RING... RING... RING..._

"Now what is this?" he wondered out irritably.

He picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Michael!"

"GRANDMA? Is that you?"

"Well, yes dear, you see..."

"Wait a moment.. are you sick? You don't sound yourself."

"No, dear."

"Ha ha... joke's over, CHARLES."

"How'd you-- no, it's not..." Charles said, trying to reason.

"As if!" he said, putting down the phone. Now Charles Robinson was tricking him?

"Someone is stopping me from getting dressed." he said annoyed. "First Orton, now the referee? Who next?" He took off his towel and placed his clothes on. He was about to reach for the brush when someone started throwing stones at is window. He opened the window.

"What do you want?"

"Do you have any Austrian pancakes?" Tazz asked.

"No!" he answered annoyed, and really pissed off. He slammed the window shut.

"Geez... what a grump." Tazz said to himself.

Paul finally got the brush and fixed his hair. He stepped out of the room and went down to the cafeteria.

He ordered toast for breakfast along with orange juice.

"We don't have that sir." the guy said.

"But it's on the menu!" he protested.

"But we don't, sir, not today."

"It's seven AM, for God's sakes, how could you run out at this early?" he asked, clearly angered.

"We just don't." the guy said simply.

Paul turned away and went out to the lobby. He screamed "Fuck it!" He quickly clamped his mouth shut, realizing everyone in the lobby was staring at him. A few women had gasped and the lobby remained silent. He walked out of the lobby and went outside, to his car. He saw he had a flat tire.

"Dammit! What the hell is wrong with me today! I'm not jinxed... right? At least I keep a spare."

Little did he know, this was just a prank someone was pulling off.

He replaced the tire in record time and started the engine. It didn't start.

"Now what's wrong?" He checked outside, and inside for about 15 minutes until he notices that he narrowly missed the gas gauge. It was empty.

"WHAT? I FILLED THIS UP YESTERDAY!" he yelled.

_I guess I have to walk today. I've had too much bad luck. Stupid day. _he thought angrily.

He went to 7-11(is there one in the U.S.?), and got himself a hotdog. Not really the ideal breakfast food, but that had to do. He also got himself some pineapple juice. For some odd reason, he bought hydrochloric acid. Wait--- what EXACTLY is hydrochloric acid doing in 7-11? Well, he THOUGHT that he got pineapple juice, but he just yanked off a bottle of the acid, and not juice.

He threw the receipt into the garbage can, and headed back to the hotel. The "juice" wasn't cold, so he decided that he refrigerate it.

He threw himself on the bed, holding a basket ball and throwing it up. He managed to keep it going up and down for around a minute, but then, it fell on his face.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, grasping the area which was hit. "Crap..."

He tossed it aside. Badly for him, he threw it too hard against the wall, and it bounced back and hit him squarely on the head... and knocked him out.

0o0o0o0

Several hours later, he woke up at around 5 PM.

When Paul saw the time, he cursed himself for being stupid. Tonight was a taping for SmackDown! and he stupidly(is there a word?) knocked himself out. He had 2 hours to prepare, including road travel. He rushed to the bathroom and fixed himself up. Next, to grab his things. He made sure that he had packed everything he needed, and _made sure _to bring his keys. Last week, he had locked himself out, and the hotel staff took forever to retrieve an extra key card. By the time he got in, he nearly collapsed on the ground. He placed the "juice" in the bag, and wondered why it still wasn't that cold.

As soon as he stepped out of the room, someone went zooming past him and of course, he fell to the floor.

"Sorry, Paul!" Rey said, still running.

Paul was really getting pissed off. "What is wrong with me?"

Some people turned to him at his outburst. Paul ignored them and got up, walked to the elevator, and still ignored the eyes which were on him.

Some of the other wrestlers were in the elevator as well. Paul saw that... that Rico was there too. _Oh boy... _he thought. The others inside were John, Chris Jericho, RVD, Eddie, and Randy.

Just as Rico pressed the ground floor button, the elevator got stuck.

"Aw, fuck." he muttered, slamming his fist into the wall. Paul was outraged, and wanted to get out.

Ironically, the others made no comment.

He searched for a hatch or something like that, but wasn't triumphant.

"What we do?" RVD asked drunkenly.

Chris pushed the 'emergency' button, but nothing happened.

"Now what?" Eddie wondered.

"I know-- we play game!" RVD suggested.

"But Hunter's not here." pointed out Randy.

"No-- bottle spin!" RVD said childishly.

"Oh... spin the bottle." Eddie said. "Truth or dare, guys!"

"You're on." several answered. Everyone set down their bags and sat on the floor. It landed on Rico.

"Rico... truth or dare?"

"Dare!"

Chris paused for a while. "I dare you to kiss the CUTEST guy in the elevator on the lips."

Rico looked arond and he focused on Paul. Paul, realizing he was the target, tried to squirm away.

"No no no no no, Paul!" Eddie said. "You have to!"

Paul grimaced... this homosexual was creeping him out. But the sooner done, the better.

Rico eagerly placed his lips on Paul's, and then...

_BAM._

The walls of the elevator went down! And there was a load of people watching and taking pictures!

Paul quickly broke away and demanded, "What is this?"

No one answered.

"Paul..." started Michelle McCool, his close friend. "This was all a joke."

Paul's eyes widened. "A joke--"

"It was all a joke, man." Cena interrupted. "Say, did you drink that pineapple juice you bought?"

"No."

"I'm glad."

"Why?"

"You see... you grabbed hydrochloric acid instead of juice."

"Oh." He stared around him. "How did you pull off this prank? I thought I'd get stuck in that elevator forever!"

"A birthday present, and all of us pitched in. So, happy birthday Paul!" said Hunter, helping Paul up.

"Thanks, guys... you had me fooled." Paul said. "But what about SmackDown?"

Triple H laughed. "We'll just torture them with reruns."

"Evil us..." Paul said, shaking his head.

0o0o0o0

Yeah. Bad ending. But anyway, please review!


End file.
